


you should never blame yourself

by parkrstark



Series: SuperCrazyFamily [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Appendicitis, Gen, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Peter Parker Cries, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Sickfic, Superfamily, Vomiting, i'm not a doctor i'm a fanfiction writer, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkrstark/pseuds/parkrstark
Summary: So, apparently, spider-kids with radioactive DNA could still rupture their appendix. Who knew, right?





	you should never blame yourself

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for a friend that wanted superfamily with Peter having a ruptured appendix. If anything is inaccurate, which there is bound to be something, I'm apologizing in advance here. But you're not reading fanfiction for accuracy. You're reading it for the drama. So, please don't attack me for medical inaccuracies. I love you all.

In hindsight, Steve should have known. He should have put two and two together to realize that something was very wrong. He was Peter’s father. He had a sixth sense when it came to his boy. He should have known to push it. Peter always said he was fine, no matter what the level of pain was. 

But he didn’t. 

Strike one. 

  
  


He walked in from his morning run on Friday with Dodger close by his feet. Dodger went straight for his bowl and immediately started lapping up water. Bree was there already, waiting by the food for breakfast. Usually, Tessa and Bree were waiting by the bowls for Dodger before they all started eating. 

There was only one reason Tessa wouldn’t be out in the kitchen yet. He turned to Dodger and Bree as he walked towards Peter’s room. He gestured to the bowls so they knew what he was saying. “You guys eat up. I’ll go get your little sister.”

Dodger didn’t need to be told twice, always hungry after a run, and Bree followed him soon after. 

Steve walked down the hall and stopped in front of Peter’s door. He knocked a few times and said, “Pete, bud, you still in there?” The time was getting close to him being late for school. 

A moment later, Peter was opening his door slowly. His hair was still a mess like it usually was in the mornings. Steve smiled at the sight of his bedhead. “Good morning, bear.” 

“Morning, Pops,” he mumbled before stepping away and letting Steve follow him inside. He was walking slowly as he limped back towards his bed. 

Steve frowned, immediately worried that Peter didn’t go to them when he was hurt. “Did you get hurt on patrol last night?”

“No,” he croaked. “Didn’t do anything crazy. Mostly helped find the home for a stray cat I found on a fire escape. Knocked from door to door. It was a slow night.” 

While Steve was relieved that he wasn’t hiding any injuries, he was still worried to know why Peter looked so...miserable. This wasn’t the Peter he knew. Even if he wasn’t also excited and eager to wake at early hours, he was never this sluggish. 

He walked over to Peter after he pulled on a shirt and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “You don’t feel hot.” 

“I don’t get sick,” Peter said, swatting Steve’s hand away. 

“You get sick,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. Peter had been sick before. Steve had spent a few hours on the bathroom floor with him. “It doesn’t stay in your system long, but you still get sick. Being stubborn and claiming you can’t get sick won’t scare away the germs. So what’s wrong?”

Peter sighed and sat down on the bed, holding his stomach. “It’s nothing. Just feel a little nauseous I guess.”

“Did you eat a lot before bedtime?” Steve asked, even though Peter  _ always  _ ate before bedtime. So did Steve. Their metabolism required it. 

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Peter answered, wincing as Tessa came over and started to climb up on him to lick his face. 

“C’mere, Tess,” Steve said, reaching over to take her off of Peter. She didn't understand that what she was doing was only hurting Peter more. “Go eat. I’ve got Petey.” He pointed out to the door and waited for her to go running out before turning his attention back to Peter. “You can stay home, bud.”

Peter shook his head. “No. I’ve got a big test today. If I put it off for Monday, I’ll forget everything I studied.” 

Steve eyed him, wondering if he should force him to stay home. “Are you sure?”

Nodding his head, Peter said, “Yeah.” 

“Text one of us if it gets worse. I think Dad has a meeting, but I can pick you up.” 

Peter gave him a small smile, but it looked out of place on his pale face. “I’ll be okay, Pops. Don’t worry.” 

So, Steve drove him into school, at least saving him from having to take the subway feeling so ill. He wished him luck on his test and reminded him again that he’d be home to pick him up if necessary. Even if he called the minute he finished his test so he could come home. 

But he didn’t. He went into school and toughed it out the entire day. When Steve picked him up after school, he looked just as sick as he did that morning. 

Another moment that he should have done something, but he didn’t do anything but drive Peter home and have him lay down. 

Strike two. 

He stayed in bed all of Saturday and even when Tony went to his room with some soup and crackers, he refused it because he claimed he wasn’t hungry. He only ate when they forced him to eat  _ something  _ because he needed more than average humans. Having nothing was not an option. 

“Something’s wrong,” Tony said when they left his room for the night after he finally fell asleep. “He never passes up the chance to eat.” 

Despite it being decades ago, Steve could still remember how he felt when he was sick with a stomach bug. Not even his ma’s mashed potatoes were appetizing until he was healthy again. “It’s probably just a bad bug. Remember a few months ago when he was sick? He’ll be over it by tomorrow.” 

A few hours later when Steve and Tony managed to get to sleep, they were woken up not long after by FRIDAY.  _ “Peter is currently getting sick in his bathroom and looks to need help.” _

That had Steve stumbling out of bed before he could even open his eyes fully. He turned to Tony and patted his arm. “I got him, hun.”

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he walked down the hall to Peter’s room. He opened the door and saw Tessa sitting by the bathroom door, whining to be let in. Steve came over and pet her head. “It’s okay, baby girl.” He slowly opened the door, careful to keep Tessa from following him in and saw Peter sitting on the floor, hugging the toilet as he retched again. 

He glanced over when he heard Steve walk in. “Did I wake you?” He muttered, breathing heavily as he fought off another round of vomiting, probably. 

“I was up,” Steve lied easily. “How long have you been in here, bud?”

“Dunno,” he replied, shutting his eyes and resting his cheek on the toilet seat. 

Steve crouched next to him and lifted his face off the seat so he was leaning against his chest instead. Peter curled into the embrace. “Are you done? Think you can get back to bed?”

“Dunno,” he said again because that seemed to be the only answer he could give right now. 

“I’ll carry you back into bed and get you a garbage can so you don’t have to sleep in here.” Steve rubbed his back softly as he lifted him into his arms and started to carry him out of the bedroom. Thank God for the super serum because carrying him was no problem, even when he had to use one hand to open the bathroom door. Peter never would get too big to be in his father’s arms. 

He lowered him into bed and tucked the blanket around him before hurrying back into the bathroom and grabbing his garbage can. He placed it on the floor next to his bed and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “It’s right here, bud.”

Peter didn’t open his eyes to see where Steve was pointing, but he grunted out a quiet, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” he said, leaning over to press his lips to Peter’s forehead. He seemed a little warm but not dangerously so. 

“You can go back to sleep,” Peter said after a few moments. “I’m okay.” 

“I’ll go back in a few minutes,” Steve said, rubbing his arm softly. “Just close your eyes and get some rest.” 

Peter nodded his head and reached a hand out to hold onto Steve’s arm. Even though he looked too weak to even hold his head up, his hand stayed gripped to his arm. It didn’t become an issue until Peter’s breathing had evened out and his hand was still stuck to Steve’s arm. He gently took Peter’s wrist in his hand and tugged it, but it didn’t budge. Seriously, how did his spider powers work when he was asleep. 

“Hey, FRIDAY, can you tell Tony to come here. And let him know it’s safe. No puking.” Steve tugged his arm again to try and get free, but Peter was really stuck there. He stopped while he waited for Tony because he didn’t want to wake Peter up. 

When Tony walked inside, he looked worried. “Is he okay?” He walked in with soft steps until he was just in front of them. 

“Yeah, I managed to get him to sleep, but we have a little issue.”

That only increased Tony’s panicking. “What’s wrong? Is he hurt?”

“No-- sorry, shoulda worded that better. He’s fine. I think. Probably just a stomach bug. But…” Steve trailed off and took Peter’s wrist in his hand again. He looked over at Tony to make sure he was watching before giving it a tug. His hand was flat against Steve’s arm and it didn’t move. 

It took a moment for Tony to realize what happened, but when he did, he started to laugh. He quickly covered his mouth to try and muffle it before he woke up Peter. 

“Haha, very funny,” Steve said. “You’re not the one stuck here until he wakes up.” Even though he’d be stuck there for hours, he hoped that Peter wouldn’t wake up until morning so that he wasn’t in the bathroom for another round of puking. 

“Maybe he’ll roll over and let go,” Tony said with a smile as he pulled his hand away from his mouth. 

“Or he rolls over and drags me with him.”

Tony came over and laid down next to him, resting his head in Steve’s lap. “I’ll keep you company while you’re stuck here then.” 

Steve smiled down at his husband before he began to run his fingers through his hair, just as he had done for Peter. “Keep me company, huh? Bet you that you’ll be asleep in the next 20 minutes.” 

Tony grinned up at him before shutting his eyes and wrapping his own hand around Steve’s arm. He didn’t have spider-powers like Peter did, but his hold was just as secure. 

“Goodnight, my love,” Steve whispered to him softly. 

A small smile grew on Tony’s face as he relaxed some more. “Goodnight, tesoro,” Tony said back softly and much sooner than 20 minutes, his breathing had evened out just like Peter’s had. 

Steve sat there, because he really didn’t have much of a choice, and kept an eye on them as they slept. Both of his boys slept through the night and Steve thought that finally, it was all over. 

Especially when Peter woke up the next morning seeming like his normal self again. He was smiling and told them both about how much better his stomach felt. 

Steve really thought it was all back to normal.

Strike three. 

Three strikes you’re out. 

_ “Peter is in serious distress in his bedroom. He is calling for both of you,”  _ FRIDAY’s voice filled his art studio while he was in the middle of sketching. Tony wasn’t in the room with him, but he knew FRIDAY was broadcasting her voice to wherever he was. 

Steve threw his sketch pad to the table before rushing out of the room. Peter was never in “serious distress” and he never called out for him and Tony unless it was really bad. That only had him worrying even more. Peter couldn’t hear him, but he still promised under his breath as he ran through the tower until he was outside of Peter’s room. The door was already open, so he just shoved it open and rushed inside. 

Tony was already in the room attempting to console Peter as he writhed on the bed too aggressively for Tony to even put a hand on him. That wasn’t nearly as horrifying as the sounds coming from him. 

The last time he’d heard Peter screaming like this was when he had to fish a bullet out of his stomach after parol one night. He never wanted to hear that again. 

“Steve!” Tony yelled, looking back at him with his eyes open wide in panic. “Come help me!” 

Steve pulled himself from his trance to rush forward. “I don’t know what to do!” 

“Neither do I!” Tony said back, his voice loud to be heard over the sound of Peter’s pained cries. 

“Okay, okay,” Steve said, kneeling on the bed. “We’re on the same side. Let’s just--.” Steve stopped because he wasn’t even sure what they had to do. The first thing he wanted to do was just calm Peter down. 

He grabbed Peter’s wrists and pulled his arms away from his stomach. He tried to keep his voice as steady as he could as he saw the tear tracks running down his cheeks. “Peter, bear,” he said, trying to get his attention. “C’mon, sweetie. Look at me. You’re okay.” 

Peter reached out and grabbed Steve’s hand, squeezing it hard enough to make even Steve wince. “P-Papa,” he sobbed. “It hurts so much!” 

Steve kept a hold on Peter’s wrists and Tony crawled over to brush some of his sweaty bangs from his forehead. “Shh, bambino,” Tony whispered. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“What hurts, Pete?” Steve asked him, hoping for anything that could help him figure out what was wrong. 

“My stomach! It hurts so bad!” He squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face into the pillow. 

“How does it hurt?” Steve used one hand to lift Peter’s shirt up. 

“I-I don’t know!” Peter cried, in too much pain to focus on anything he was saying. 

“You’ve gotta help me here,” Steve said, feeling absolutely helpless.

“Are you going to throw up again?” Tony asked. “Is it nausea? Or is it more of cramping?”

_ “I don’t know!”  _ Peter yelled, gasping and shoving Steve’s hand away from his stomach when it grazed his skin. But it didn’t stop Steve from feeling how hard and swollen his abdomen was. 

“Shit, Tony, his stomach is like a rock.” 

Tony’s head snapped up to the ceiling and he asked, “FRIDAY, check these symptoms. Nausea, cramps, vomiting, fever, and a swollen--.” He stopped short. 

“What?” Steve insisted. 

Tony replied the same time that FRIDAY did. “Ruptured appendix.”

FRIDAY continued on,  _ “Urgent medical attention is required.” _

Steve didn’t need to be told twice. He put his arms under Peter’s back and knees to scoop him up in a bridal carry. Peter cried out at the rough movement but still clung onto Steve. “Am I bringing him to the infirmary or am I running to a hospital?” Steve didn’t care which one he had to do. He’d do it. 

“I don’t know if Cho is on call, but there’s always a few doctors there. They can help,” Tony said, standing up with him. “FRIDAY, tell them to prep for surgery to remove an appendix. Let them know it’s Peter. I want his anesthesia ready.” 

Steve had been on the receiving end of a few medical treatments without anesthesia because they didn’t always have a drug that could beat the metabolism of a super-soldier. It wasn’t fun. He didn’t want his son to feel that too. He was glad they figured something out. 

As they ran up the stairs because the elevator was slower than a Papa Bear on a mission, Peter continued to cry out in his arms. “I’m sorry, Peter,” Steve apologized. “I should have known. I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t blame yourself for this,” Tony said, running beside him. “It’s not your fault. He’s going to be okay.”

Steve could only hope Tony was right as they made it to the infirmary and doctors were already rushing around. Steve hurried Peter over to the table they were getting ready, but when he went to lower him, Peter refused to let go of him. Just like last night. “Pete, baby, you’ve got to let go.”

“Papa!” He yelled, tears still streaming down his face. “Hurts!” 

“I know it does, sweetie. They’re going to fix it for you.” Steve failed to pry Peter’s hands off of him.

“We’ll just put him under while you’re here and then you can go,” one of the doctors said, already getting the mask ready. 

Steve shook his head immediately. “No! If you do that, he’ll still be stuck.” Steve wasn’t sure if it was true while he was unconscious, but he didn’t want to find out. As much as he wanted to be there for Peter, he wasn’t sure if he could handle watching people cut into his stomach. Even if Peter couldn’t feel any of it and was unconscious. 

“Then you have to get him to let go now. We don’t have time to waste,” the doctor said as he began to cut Peter’s t-shirt off of him. It was one of his favorite  _ Star Wars  _ shirts. They’d have to buy him a new one. Or maybe Steve could sew it for him. 

Peter didn’t even realize what they did from the pain that was overwhelming him. “Don’t go.” His wild eyes were looking around the room. “Where’s Dad?”

Tony immediately came to the other side of him. “Right here, bambino. You’re okay.” 

“It hurts,” Peter whimpered to him., breaking Steve’s heart just a little more. 

“I know. Which is why they’re going to make you feel better. You just have to let go of Pops. We’ll each hold a hand until you’re asleep but no sticking. If you can do that, after all this, I’ll let you go to the Lego store and pick out any set you want.” 

“E-even the $800 Millennium Falcon?”

“Even the Millennium Falcon.” Tony gave him a watery smile. “So, do we have a deal?”

Peter let go of Steve and it only took Tony and him a second before they were grabbing Peter’s hands and holding them tight. “You’re gonna be okay, bud,” Steve said. It’s all gonna be over soon.” 

Peter nodded his head as the doctor placed the mask over his face and instructed Peter to start counting backward from 30. Before he got far, he was unconscious and his hand was limp in Steve’s hold. 

Then doctors were rushing him and Tony out of there so they could get to work. Steve didn’t argue with it, even if he hated leaving Peter, but he knew it was for the best. Tony grabbed his hand and squeezed it as they walked away from the operating table. “He’s going to be okay, love. I’ve got the best doctors in the world.”

Steve didn’t speak up until they were sitting in two chairs far away enough not to hear it, but close enough to go running when they were finished. “Don’t you feel like we should have known? He’s our kid and I just kept brushing it off.” 

“A lot of parents don’t catch appendicitis right away, Steve. And it was something I’d never even considered because of his DNA. It doesn’t make us any less of parents.” He leaned his head to rest on Steve’s shoulder and Steve leaned his head on top of Tony’s. 

“He was in so much pain and there was nothing we could do to stop it,” Steve whispered, hearing Peter’s sobs all over again in his mind. “I hate that. I hate it. We’re supposed to be his fathers. We’re Captain America and Iron Man and still...we can’t save our boy from pain.” 

“We’ll never be able to do that,” Tony said softly. “Whether it’s an injury from patrol, appendicitis, or something else like heartbreak...he’s going to go through pain. We can’t shield him from that. What kind of life would he live if we protected him from  _ everything?” _

“A long and safe one,” Steve replied even though he understood what Tony was saying. 

“Maybe. But not a fun one. He needs to get hurt. Everyone does.” 

“But like this?” Steve shook his head. “It isn’t fair.” 

“Something tells me you had it much worse as a kid. Was it fair to you?”

“No, but--.”

“But nothing. Life isn’t fair sometimes. Just gotta make do with what we’re dealt.” 

Steve sighed heavily. “I’m supposed to be the painfully optimistic one.” 

“Take a break,” Tony said softly. “It’s my turn.” 

They stayed in that spot, holding onto each other for what felt like hours before a doctor finally came over to them and said the most beautiful words Steve had ever heard. “Peter’s awake and you can come and see him now.” 

Steve and Tony were on their feet in an instant to follow the doctor into the recovery room they had Peter set up in. 

“Just a fair warning,” he said when they stopped outside a closed door, presumably, Peter’s. “He’s on a lot of pain medication right now to help with the pain. That’ll explain why he’s acting a little…”

“Loopy?” Tony supplied. 

The doctor nodded with a faint smile on his lips. 

“Oh, this I have to see,” Steve said, pushing past Tony. See Peter high off his ass on pain meds? Sure. But Steve was mostly referring to just seeing his boy alive and well. He hurried inside and sure enough, Peter was laying in bed with his eyes wide awake. “Hey, little buddy, you finally up?”

Peter looked over at him and gave him the biggest grin he’d seen in a while. There were dimples and everything. “Pops!” 

Steve couldn’t help his own smile as he walked over to take one of the seats next to his bed Tony was right behind him and took the other. “You have no idea how nice it is to see you smile, bear.” 

“‘Course I’m smiling. Dad’s taking me to the Lego store now.” 

Tony laughed, shaking his head. “Of course you remember that.” 

“No one is getting up just yet. You’re staying here overnight to let that stomach of yours heal,” Steve said, keeping his voice light but firm. 

Peter pouted and put on his best show of puppy eyes. 

“Those don’t work on me anymore, muffin. Sorry.” 

Peter huffed and leaned back. “Wanna go and run.” 

Steve knew how much Peter hated staying still-- how impossible it was for him to stay still. “I know you do, but that’s not really the best idea right now.”

“Guess what!” Peter said suddenly changing the subject, almost jumping up in bed. Tony and Steve both grabbed an arm to keep him from going up to the ceiling. 

“Peter, do  _ not  _ do that. You’re going to tear your stitches.” 

“I have stitches?” He asked, his eyes going wide. “Wow. That’s pretty badass.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Ruptured appendix. Real badass.” 

Something sparked in Peter’s eyes and again he said, “Guess what!”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Steve replied, “What?”

“They’re gonna let me keep him in a jar.”

“What?” Steve asked just as Tony repeated,  _ “Him?” _

Peer nodded his head before patting his stomach. Hard. Stev grabbed his hand before he could do it again. “Don’t hurt yourself, Peter.” 

“Don’t feel it.” 

“That’s because they’ve got you doped up on pain meds,” Steve said, frustration creeping up because apparently his kid couldn’t just stop being a shit for two seconds even when he wasn’t even trying to be 

“Am I high?” He asked in a loud whisper and before Steve could reply, he said, “Don’t tell my dads. I don’t think I’m supposed to be high.” 

“Peter, I  _ am  _ your father. And no, you’re not supposed to be high. This is different. This--.”

“I'm sorry. Can we go back to the part where he said  _ him,”  _ Tony asked. 

Peter looked over at Tony and answered, “Yeah. My ‘pendix. Gotta name him.” Then he looked back at Steve as he continued, “You know, just like I named Pedro--.”

“Peter, we are  _ not  _ having this conversation. So end it before I have a doctor come knock you out again.” 

Peter started laughing-- no, he started  _ giggling _ like crazy. As if the words Steve said were the funniest in the world. Steve felt his own lips quirk up in a faint smile. 

“What’re you laughing at, weirdo?”

Peter’s answer was to just start laughing more. Soon, he was laughing so hard his face was red and he wasn’t taking in a full breath. 

“Alright, alright. Calm down. You need to breathe.” Steve tried to keep a straight face but failed. Peter’s giggles continued and Steve found himself chuckling because of how infectious they were. 

“I don’t think he’s gonna calm down any time soon,” Tony commented with a smile of his own. 

Steve doubted he was going to either, but he didn’t mind. Laughter meant happiness. “You’re crazy. I hope you know that, Giggles.” 

And when the tears started to leak from the corner of his eyes, Steve could have cried himself. Maybe Tony was right. Maybe they did need the pain in life. If only to cherish the moments like these a little more. 


End file.
